


Set My Heart on Fire and Let it Burn

by msby13



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Miya Atsumu, Pining, Suna Rintarou-centric, Third Years Osamu and Suna, if u squint, suna pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msby13/pseuds/msby13
Summary: The Five times Suna Rintarou realises that this feeling is his chest means a little something more, and the One time he swears to make it last forever.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Set My Heart on Fire and Let it Burn

**Author's Note:**

> ue ue ue *crying noises* i love these 2 sm......
> 
> me, living in the southern hemisphere: how does the school year in japan work!!!!  
>  hopefully i got all the years and events right!!
> 
> also, i added a lot of... imagery and stuff in an attempt for something different..... so i hope it didn't end up just as a confusing mess...

**— Spring, 2013**

The First time hits Suna Rintarou like a brick, and he doesn’t know if he will ever recover from the impact. If it were like any of his video games, he could use an elixir and he would be back to normal. But he can’t and now he doesn’t remember what normal is anymore.

It’s during the third years’ graduation. The cherry blossoms are falling, fluttering in the breeze as everyone gather together under the trees. Various camera shutters sounds echo in the background, preserving the smiles on their faces and the tears that well in their eyes. Suna has already thanked his upperclassmen for their guidance over the past year, so he stands aside to let the louder underclassmen bother the third years one last time.

There’s a particular breeze that blows stronger than the others, making Suna close his eyes and turn his head to avoid most of the wind that brushes against his face. When he opens his eyes again, his heart flutters in sync with the petals that surround him.

Osamu is standing there, the sunlight that filters through the blossoms paint the grey of his hair with a golden hue. His dark grey eyes glimmer with each bite he takes of the melon bread, held with care in both of his hands. The cherry blossom petals land on him ever-so gently, as if to not disturb the scene.

Osamu is glowing, Suna realises. And as much as he wants to keep this image in his photo library, as much as this feeling is his chest is going to burst, Suna fights the urges all down. Because,

Suna Rintarou hates clichés.

  


**— Summer, 2013**

The Second time, Suna finds that he can’t cool down the heat that bubbles under his skin. No matter how much ice cream he consumes, and no matter how much his stomach aches in return; he can’t put out that flame burning in his chest.

Suna visits the Miya household. He’s been here numerous of times, so he knows how to make himself at home.

It’s a scorching day, so he opts to lie down in the middle of the living room next to Osamu. Suna closes his eyes. He listens to the hum of the fan and the cries of the cicadas from outside, while the occasional tinkle of the wind chime provides a soothing touch amongst the other sounds filtering through his ears. Though the humidity feels suffocating, the silence between Osamu and him is anything but so.

Osamu is the one to break the silence. He wants to go to the nearby convenience store. He says that Atsumu took all the snacks in the house to Ginjima’s place today, so there’s none left. Suna agrees to go with him and prepares to brave the sun.

They’re walking back to the house, both of them with a popsicle in hand, while the plastic bag filled with snacks rustles in Osamu’s other one. Casual chatter falls between them easily, but the sudden carefree smile on Osamu’s face gleaming under the sun’s rays sets off the flame in Suna’s chest. He bites, bites, and bites on his popsicle to calm the flame, until there’s nothing left but the wooden stick. Suna instantly regrets it when his faces scrunches at the sharp pain in his head, as Osamu’s laugh that follows serves as kindling for the growing fire.

  


**— Autumn, 2013**

The Third time reminds Suna of the taste of home. Like a child scoffing down their breakfast before running out of the house, Suna feels as if he has been given the energy to take on the world.

The third years are sitting together in the courtyard for lunch. They usually sit in a classroom, but Atsumu insisted that he wanted some fresh air today. Suna doesn’t mind, the autumn breeze is chilly and feels nice against his skin.

A bento box gently nudges against Suna’s arm. Inside sits a row of onigiri, each triangle perfectly crafted. His eyes trail up to find the box’s owner, golden-green meeting dark grey.

There’s another gentle nudge and Suna figures that it’s an invitation to take one. So he does.

Osamu says he made them himself. Says this is going to be it. And Suna’s memory flashes to last year, when it was just the two of them walking home together. Osamu speaks in a tone Suna has never heard before, tells him that he doesn’t want to continue with volleyball in the future, and that Suna is the first to know.

Osamu uses that same tone again, so Suna knows that he’s the first to know this time too. The first person to take a peek into Osamu’s future, the path he’s chosen for himself. The rest of the third years are too busy bickering over volleyball talk to notice anything.

Suna takes a bite of the onigiri.

It reminds him of home. Of his mother’s cooking. It transports him all the way back to Aichi, yet when he looks forward, all he sees is Osamu comfortably eating his own onigiri. Even when he looks further ahead, Osamu is still in the picture.

Suna says it tastes good. And that he will make sure to be his first customer when Osamu opens his store.

He receives a smile in return that sets his heart ablaze, while the red, brown, and yellow leaves innocently patter along their feet.

  


**— Winter, 2014**

The Fourth time makes Suna crave for a warmth that doesn’t belong to him. Like a moth to a flame.

Volleyball practice has finished for the day. The sun has already set, leaving the club members to find their way home under the night sky. Suna walks at the back of the group with his nose tucked in the scarf around his neck, one hand in his pocket, while the other numbingly taps away at his phone.

Osamu asks, white puffs in the air with each word, how Suna’s hand can survive the cold holding the phone like that. Suna smirks, pockets his phone and uses that hand to reach into Osamu’s pocket, where his hand is hiding from the winter cold. He expects a reaction embarrassing enough it attracts the laughter from those ahead of them, but instead he feels a warmth that intertwines with his cold.

They both keep walking in silence like this, and suddenly Suna feels too aware of his own heartbeat. As if it’s trying to escape the fire burning in Suna’s chest, it beats so fast and thumps so loud in his ears that it takes a split second too long to realise that Atsumu has called out their names.

Suna rips his hand away and puts it in his own pocket. If Atsumu ever noticed, he doesn’t say.

It feels lonely. Despite the roughness of Osamu’s palm, despite the awkward clamminess between their hands, Suna misses the comfort and heat that Osamu provides.

  


**— Spring, 2014**

The Fifth time comes around quicker than anyone has expected it to, let alone for Suna. Each of the third years now standing in the same courtyard their upperclassmen once stood, each adorning a flower brooch a similar colour to the cherry blossoms fluttering around them.

It’s the same scenery as it was last year. Except now they’re the ones in the spotlight for the afternoon. Sounds of camera shutters, promises declared a little too loudly, and lots of sniffling to keep in the tears.

Suna closes his eyes, face upwards to feel the sun, takes a deep breath of the delicate spring air, and breathes it all back out. He’s ready to walk his own path.

Suna opens his eyes, looks down the stone path with rows of cherry blossom trees on each side, and there he sees him.

Osamu.

Osamu is walking down the same stone path, cherry blossom petals dancing around him. The petals threatening to cover more of his figure the further he walks. This time will be the last, Suna realises.

So just this time, he lets his heart soar.

He runs. He runs against the wind. He runs and fights against the petals that threaten to engulf Osamu and make him disappear.

Because Suna doesn’t want that.

He leaps one last time, and grabs Osamu by the arm. Dark grey eyes meeting golden-green. That soft black hair still basked in the same golden hue that makes him glow so beautifully.

Suna Rintarou hates clichés.

But just this time, that doesn’t stop him from saying,

“Miya Osamu, I like you.”

  


**— Spring, 2022**

Eight years later. After the Tokyo 2021 Olympics, and after the V. League season that followed not too shortly, Suna finally catches a train from Nagoya back home.

Some would say that Suna’s home would be right there in Aichi, the place he was born and raised, but he disagrees. Just like a fox cub that leaves it own territory in search of their own, Suna finds his home inside a small apartment in Amagasaki.

He turns the door knob and instantly he’s greeted by the aroma of freshly cooked rice and miso soup.

Suna takes his shoes off by the entrance, and once he turns around, he sees Osamu peeking his head around the corner.

Welcome home, he says.

Although Suna is exhausted like he usually his after the end of every volleyball season, and especially this year with the Olympics, he sees the soft smile on Osamu’s face and he feels he’s been given the energy to block every single spike coming his way for the rest of his life.

I’m home, Suna replies.

He walks to where Osamu is cooking, and turns Osamu around to wrap himself around him. Osamu indulges him for a second before protesting, saying that the food is going to burn and that will inevitably lead to the apartment burning down too. But what Osamu doesn’t realise, is that no fire will compare to the one that has been burning inside of Suna’s chest for the past nine years. And today’s flame burns the worst of them all.

Suna lets Osamu go to turn off the stove, while he takes a couple of deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm the fire burning through his whole body. He worries that the longer the little velvet box stays hidden in his pocket, it will melt against the heat of his body and vanish into thin air. It’s now or never.

He takes in one last breath and drops down to his knee, opening the velvet box in his palm to reveal the silver band. The single diamond glistens in the light, but Osamu will always glow brighter than any jewel.

Suna finally accepts that the fire in his chest will never stop burning as he says,

“Miya Osamu, will you marry me?”


End file.
